the fascist regime of your bleeding heart    makes me wanna rip the hair of out of my head    and when i scream    i'm silenced by your guilt    this is the true essence of the hell of a man    our relationship is a dictatorship    i'm better off with you i guess    that's what my friends tell me    and even though i'm putrid    and even though i'm cold    my self-sufficient solitude    is good enough to hold    coagulated blood is crusted on my lips from kissing you    as i stare into the eyes of rot    these lyrics are submitted by boners for algernon